Righteous Money

One-person plays present a unique level of responsibility for the featured performer. To carry a play without the benefit of a supporting cast is a test of endurance, focus, and chops for the actor. Ditto the playwright. When there is no foil, no sidekick, no comic relief, no straight man -- no gay neighbor -- you've only got one character: so he had better be an interesting one. Wolf 359's production of "Righteous Money" is an example of that sublime and uncommon marriage of good acting with good material.

Written and performed by the excellent Michael Yates Crowley, "Righteous Money" is an acerbic social commentary and dark comedy that details the psychological undoing of its hero CJ, a television personality and Wall Street power player.

The tiny Red Room Theater has been made over as a sound stage, and we are the studio audience in this live broadcast of CJ's nationally syndicated financial advice show. As CJ holds court over his audience of minions, all the while insulting and belittling their very worth as human beings, we learn that he long ago gave up kindness, humility, and all traces of political correctness during his ascent to financial success -- and a TriBeCa penthouse.

In one brilliantly absurd and telling moment he says to his followers, "When I look into your souls, I see a bunch of (expletive) idiots." CJ is so forthright and full of himself, he can without irony claim to look into people's souls. And when he then calls those people idiots, it is not so much an affront as it is a warning. CJ is Ebenezer Scrooge, but with mad charisma.

Today has just not been CJ's day. Not only was he awoken from sleep by the Occupy Wall Street protests outside his (floor-to-ceiling, soundproof) windows, but his assistant Nathan has also decided not to show up for work, and his guest for the evening, financial guru Suze Orman, is missing in action. CJ is able to hold it together on the air, though, spouting his appalling financial guidance, and trying during commercial breaks to keep the show afloat.

He admits to sacrificing all emotions and the hope of ever finding love in order to focus all his energies on mounting his wealth. This is not a fact he mourns; to the contrary, he advises that his audience follow suit. Why waste time building relationships, after all, when time is money? Why even bother with conversation when "words only matter if they're spoken to a broker during trading hours?"

As he is a larger-than-life television personality, CJ tends to speak in hyperbole ("I am God, you barnacle."). But as he descends into madness, we see that he has taken every piece of his own callous advice and turned it into this rigid, heartless reality. But disclosures about his sex life, the intricacies of his relationship with Nathan, and his recurring Macbethian hallucinations in the teleprompter reveal that there is still at least a modicum of human feeling beneath the fa�ade.

"Righteous Money" lampoons consumer culture, greed, and lust for the material while showcasing a layered, tragic anti-hero. It re-casts the American dream as a waking nightmare. There's even self-flagellation. Having toured several cities around the globe, Crowley and director Michael Rau bring it to New York with polish and style. It is funny, engaging, and right on the money.